


Opals For Oblivion

by magicgenetek



Series: Dead Men's Party [5]
Category: Kingdom Hearts, The Princess and the Frog (2009)
Genre: Cultural Differences, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Game: Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days, Gen, M/M, Slice of Life, Spoilers - Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days, Tarot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-07-07 23:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15918399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicgenetek/pseuds/magicgenetek
Summary: Facilier should have known better to fall for the murderous undead cultist from another world. Luxord shouldn't be able to fall for anyone at all, much less a conman on an unimportant world. But here they are, arguments about the ethics of tricking children into self-sacrifice notwithstanding, and neither of them is willing to give up the happiness they've obtained.They've been friends for 196 days, partners for 63. But can they handle the upheaval the next 358 days will bring?





	1. Day 27: The Dark Margin of Error

“I want to hear the gossip about the Shadow Man,” Lottie said.

Tiana stopped pouring coffee. “No offense, but are you out of your damn mind?”

It was a busy morning at Duke’s. People were streaming in and out of the cramped diner to eat breakfast and bolt, and the noise of the crowd was near deafening. Tiana was glad for it – Facilier was trouble enough without the richest girl in town getting pulled into his web.

Some of that must have flashed on her face, because Lottie said, “I don’t want to go talk to him, I just want to hear about him. People have been whispering about him for ages but no one will tell me. Please, Tia!”

Tiana rubbed the bridge of her nose. “One, you shouldn’t be asking about a shady swindler like him in the first place, and two, there’s nothing happening to gossip about.”

“If there’s nothing to gossip about, then there’s no harm in telling me what it’s about, right?”

“There’s no stopping you, is there?” Tiana sighed. “Let me tell the cook I’m on break first, alright? I’ve got half a dozen more tables to serve.”

“See you soon!” Lottie chirped. Tiana headed out with another sigh. Grabbed dirty plates off three tables, refilled coffee at two others, took them all back to the kitchen to the sink.

“I already heard,” said the fry cook, Duke. “Go talk to the rich girl.”

“Thank you,” Tiana said out of reflex, though it wasn’t really a favor for her. Lottie was the daughter of one of the richest men in town, and she was good at throwing money as a solution to her problems. Keeping her a happy customer would help the restaurant, and keep it under the LeBouf family’s protection from other rich whites.

Besides, Lottie didn’t have a mean bone in her body. She could be thoughtless, but she was still one of Tiana’s best friends.

Tiana quickly returned to Lottie’s table, folding her waitress apron down before taking the empty seat opposite Lottie. Usually, Lottie’s father ate with her, but he’d neglected to come today – which was probably why Lottie was going after the gossip she couldn’t ask for in front of him.

“It had better just be gossip. If you get yourself into trouble – ”

“No, no, I won’t! But everyone’s talking about it and no one will tell me!”

“How do you know about if it no one will tell you?”

“I overhear things.” Lottie waved her spoon at Tiana. “Like, how he hasn’t come out of his house in a month!”

Tiana pursed her lips as she sat back in her chair. “That’s true. He hasn’t been out with the snake oil as much as he usually is.”

“And nobody knows why!”

“No, but there are suspicions.”

Lottie’s eyes glittered. “Like what?”

“You know that rich man that’s been hanging around with Facilier? Short, blonde, always wearing that leather coat?” Tiana asked.

“Of course! Mr. Luxord gave everyone at your neighborhood’s Fourth of July party jewelry! I still have what he gave me,” Lottie said, pulling out a delicate golden chain out from under her shirt. The finely carved crystals on it caught the morning light and fractured into tiny rainbows within. It was a gift that could have paid Tiana for a month.

The small earring that Luxord had given Tiana hung from her own ear. He’d insisted that in his country, gifts like this were blessed, and she had felt less fatigued since she started wearing it. Facilier had even teased her about getting exhausted all the time as Luxord had handed her the small gift box – it had been a gift the two of them must have planned in advance.

He’d given small gifts, worth only a day’s worth of wages, to everyone in the neighborhood alongside Lottie’s gift. He hadn’t blinked or mentioned the price.

How rich did you have to be to do that? And would a rich white man spend his summer celebration with a bunch of poor black folk instead of hobnobbing with his fellows?

Tiana shook the thought off. “Yes, well, Mr. Luxord hasn’t been seen for a month, either.”

“Oh! That’s why Facilier hasn’t been seen!” Lottie exclaimed. She leaned forward conspiratorially. “If you stopped coming to visit, I don’t know if I’d leave the house either!” 

“I’m not sure that’s quite right,” Tiana said.

“Even I know they’re attached at the hip,” Lottie said, rattling her spoon in her coffee cup authoritatively. “Mr. Luxord keeps on asking Facilier to take him sightseeing, right? And they always dine together when Mr. Luxord is in town.”

“You think they’re that close?”

“Of course! Luxord could probably hire anyone he wanted to give him tours here, right? He could afford to go to a good hotel or get a professional tour guide! But he doesn’t. And it doesn’t seem like he asked for any spooky stuff from Facilier either.”

“That’s true. And he doesn’t act like he’s under a spell. I’m sure someone would have stopped him if he had,” Tiana said. Facilier was rumored to consort with evil spirits and all, but if he did something that cruel, someone would no doubt step in to stop him.

“You think his magic’s that strong? All I ever hear about is him doing little tricks, like making lucky charms or dolls that protect people from illness.”

“No, Lottie. There’s more to it….”

The rumors about the shadow monsters that haunted the night. Creatures of darkness that ate the souls of their victims, leaving corpses curled in a rictus of terror. Every few months, a story about someone running into traffic or off a bridge to escape.

And then there were the rumors about how Luxord had come into his money, about how he could safely smuggle rare spices and a chest full of valuable jewelry into New Orleans without anyone realizing…

The door to Dukes’ restaurant jingled. The thud of metal-tipped boots against the restaurant tiles, and the clack of a cane.

“Now,” came a voice as finely polished as a lacquered box, “when I opened the hollowed out book, I discovered that the box of chocolates inside was empty of everything but the wrappers. Then, I realized just why my brother had sent me on an errand to get supplies for the baby the day after Halloween.”

Luxord’s metallic footfalls came to an abrupt halt as he held the door open. His long black leather coat was tied around his waist; the long-sleeved black shirt he wore underneath was damp with sweat, and he’d rolled the sleeves up around his elbows, baring muscular arms. His pale porcelain face was framed with short golden hair and a neat mustache and goatee. The only thing out of place on him were his icy eyes, which remained as shiny and lifeless as a doll’s until he looked to his companion.

“I can’t believe you’d fall for the oldest trick in the book,” Facilier replied as he stepped through the open doorway. He stood a good head taller than Luxord, but was thin as a rail; both of his wrists could have been held in just one of Luxord's hands. There was a haggardness to Facilier's face that Tiana could pick out easily after months on end of seeing him in the shadowy corners of the restaurant. He also leaned on his cane far more than usual; his hand was clenched tightly around the handle of the cane.

Luxord smiled, and the ice in his eyes melted into fondness. “I can’t disagree there. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me three times a day since childhood…”

“You’re ridiculous,” Facilier murmured with a smile.

It was unbearably tender. Tiana had seen her parents speak to each other with equal fondness. She had a sudden gut feeling about why Luxord was always hanging around.

But then they were taking Facilier’s usual spot in the corner. Luxord flipped through the menu before handing it to Facilier, and Tiana was suddenly very aware of how quiet the diner had gotten.

“Hold that thought,” she told Lottie, and went to take orders.

She was aware of the eyes on her as she went to their table. So was Facilier, apparently, as he ran a nervous hand through his disheveled curly hair and glared at the rest of the restaurant. Usually, he took the time to slick it back to something resembling professionalism, but now he looked as though he’d just rolled out of bed.

“If y’all want a staring contest, you can all take it with me one at a time,” he snapped, crossing his arms. “Can’t a man eat in peace?”

There was a great hurry and clinking of utensil against plate and quick, nervous conversation. Tiana sighed. Facilier wasn’t that dangerous if you didn’t get involved with him, but the rumors around him lately had gotten wilder and wilder. Especially with Luxord, who mellowed him out, up and missing until now.

“You did say you had cloistered yourself in the house,” Luxord said as he folded his hands politely on the table. “Perhaps they were worried about you.”

Facilier snorted. “As if.”

“Can I take your order?” Tiana asked, succeeding with great difficulty in not rolling her eyes at Facilier’s melodrama.

“Three plates of beignets and some coffee for me, please,” Luxord said with a polite smile.

“Bacon and eggs,” Facilier said a moment later, and some of the edge faded from his voice. “And coffee. With lots of sugar.” He snapped his menu shut and offered both of them to Tiana, who took them and went to the kitchen.

It only took a few minutes to get everything ready, pile plates high, and come back out, only to find that Luxord had shifted his seat 90 degrees around the table – and in between Lottie and Facilier. Lottie kept on trying to peek around Luxord, who had grabbed a menu from an unoccupied table and had put it up to block her view.

“Why does she do this every time I see her?” Facilier muttered to Luxord as Tiana set their plates down. “I haven’t had business with her family since the Spanish flu, and yet they keep bothering me.”

“Curiosity?” Luxord murmured. They’d dropped their voices enough that only the three of them could hear each other. “You are a rare treasure in this day and age.” He raised his voice and his eyes as he grabbed his coffee cup, helping Tiana fill it. “Thank you for your prompt service, Miss Tiana. I always enjoy coming here.”

“Thank you, Mr. Luxord,” and how surreal was that, to have that tender look focused on her, and to have a rich man other than Lottie’s father acting polite around her. At least Mr. LeBouf had a good reason – she and Lottie had practically grown up together, after all. Luxord was just – warm, in the presence of Facilier.

Tender, his gaze, and then his eyes flicked to the side and turned to ice once more. “Miss Charlotte, I didn’t realize you were now a waitress here.”

“Well, I was happy to see you,” Lottie said, and Tiana caught her sweeping her hair back over her shoulder in a smooth gesture. “I heard you haven’t been in town for a while.”

The noise in the diner began to ebb again. People were watching.

Facilier dabbled in dark magic, and Luxord was mysterious and rich, but Lottie was a pretty white woman and the daughter of one of the richest men in town. She may not have had a mean bone in her body, but there was always the risk that some man might think that Lottie getting spurned was a killing offense.

Facilier knew magic, but could that stop a gun?

Lottie didn’t realize that. But Facilier had become wholly consumed with his breakfast, and Luxord was looking up at her with the sharp and emotionless eyes of an alligator. He must know, Tiana thought, or he wouldn’t have that look.

“My work has kept me busy. We had a staff shortage and I had to compensate.”

“What do you do that needs so many people?” Lottie asked, ignoring Luxord’s carefully chosen vagueness.

“Lottie – “ Tiana couldn’t bite her tongue on this. Especially with the rumors that Luxord followed Facilier around for his magic – the kind of dangerous skills a smuggler and mobster might need. The hair on the back of her neck was standing on end at Luxord’s soulless gaze.

Facilier’s eyes flickered too, and he laid a hand on Luxord’s arm. Luxord blinked, and the tension abruptly vanished as his smile grew sweet again. “Why, we ship rare curiosities here and there, with an eye for the unusual – to try and find something that can touch everyone’s hearts. But since we look for such specialized tastes for our special clientele, sometimes it requires a special person to find just what a heart desires. After all, what you’d want most in the world is different from what she’d want which is different from what I’d want.”

“What do I want?” Lottie asked, teasing. She didn’t seem to sense the danger, like the wind before a storm.

And Luxord drew a deck of cards out of his pocket. “You want to see if the rumors are anything like reality. You want to see a magic trick.” He shuffled. The silvery cards flew between his hands. If Tiana didn’t know better, she’d say they floated. Lottie watched with unmitigated glee as Luxord then spread the deck before her. “I’ll tell your fortune. Pick a card.”

Lottie’s hand reached out. The restaurant held its breath. Tiana only had seconds to react.

“Can I have my fortune told?” she asked, putting her hand on Lottie’s. “I’ve never had it done before.”

“Oh, Tia, I didn’t realize! Of course you can!” Lottie bounced away from the table. “I just wanna watch!”

Luxord’s face flickered with surprise before settling into a gentle smile. The chill Tiana had felt finally faded. “Of course, Miss Tiana, that’s perfectly fine. Now, would you like a very general reading or something more specific?”

“What I’d like, Miss Tiana,” Facilier interrupted, “is to be able to eat my breakfast in peace. It’s too early in the morning to be getting into business deals. He’s going to get powdered sugar on his cards.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Tiana said, and she tugged at Lottie, “you’re right, let’s let you two finish eating breakfast first.”

“But Tia – “

“Let them eat breakfast - !”

She frogmarched Lottie back to her seat. Facilier’s tense shoulders relaxed and Luxord’s eyes filled back with warmth. The two of them leaned back together,whispering so no one else could hear them, and Tiana pointedly kept Lottie busy until they were done eating. Luxord meticulously counted out coins and set them on a stack of dollar bills when Tiana finally came over with the bill.

“Mr. Luxord, this is too much?”

He looked her dead in the eyes. “It’s your tip,” he said.

“Show off,” Facilier said, fond and exasperated, and grabbed his arm once more. “Come on, you’re going to be late if you keep messing around.”

“It’s not yet ten in the morning!”

“Plenty late to me! The sun’s already been up for a good while! Come on, time to go,” Facilier said, and he practically dragged a beaming, half-heartedly protesting Luxord along with him.

Tiana stared as the door swung shut behind them, then quickly counted up the money they’d left behind. In all, it was enough to pay a week of her wages -

She rushed over to Duke to look through the money and dump it in the register before anyone could get any ideas. They’d split the tips among the waitstaff later.

“What was that all about?” Lottie asked when Tiana’s shift was done.

“I think he was happy he got to finish his breakfast in peace,” Tiana said weakly.

All that money on him. That awful dead-eyed look he had. She could hear people whispering about the money, the charismatic smile, the way he’d shielded Facilier from Lottie’s gaze. What a nice man. Do you think he’s hanging around Facilier because he’s sweet on him?

Had none of them noticed the awful nothingness that had surrounded Luxord for a few heart stopping seconds? So many rumors, and none of them quite added up to what Luxord and Facilier really were.  She wasn’t sure what that was, yet. Only that of the two, the only reason Facilier was more dangerous was because Luxord took orders from him.

* * *

 

Outside, Facilier and Luxord walked together, Facilier’s spidery hand hovering near Luxord’s as they walked back to Facilier’s shop.

“What were you thinking?” he hissed once he’d checked that the New Orleans crowds around them weren’t paying attention to them. “With that little speech, you practically were screaming you were a smuggler! And I know that look when you’re planning on doing something that looks sweet but is going to cause trouble – you can’t just try and curse someone in public!”

“I wasn’t going to curse her,” Luxord said, sounding almost wounded. Facilier wasn’t sure how much of it was affectation and how much was real; Luxord had lost his soul (or as Luxord insisted, his ‘heart’) some five years earlier, and now insisted that the majority of emotions he showed were purely performative.

“Then what were you going to do?”

Luxord’s face melted into guileless innocence. Facilier had only known the man for six months, but he’d learned that this was usually the face he made when he was actually emoting – especially when playing a trick or confessing to some nasty deed.  “Read her fortune. Did you know that the more specific your divination, the more likely it is to cause some backlash because you’ve forced the future into an unnatural shape?”

“You can’t divine someone into a bad future in public!” Facilier hissed. “Also, how the hell does that even work?”

“Well, the path of fate is left to chance and luck; we cannot make the future happen. Those who try and force events to conform to one ending are liable to have fate lash back against them.”

“Wouldn’t that mean you’d get hit with it?” Facilier said, and he knocked against Luxord’s heavy boots with his cane. “I realize you must’ve been hungry after spending all night yammering, but it was just breakfast.”

“Everyone keeps on whispering about you,” Luxord said with a frown. “She was looking at you as if you were her entertainment. I wasn’t going to stand it.”

“We lose touch for a month and you go completely feral,” but Facilier said it softly. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Perhaps if you had remembered to buy any groceries this month while I was away, we wouldn’t have had to go,” Luxord teased, but there was a thread of worry through it. “I’ll have to bring you a barrel of rice the next time I visit so you don’t starve to death.”

“Shut up. That was your fault and you know it.”

Luxord’s face flattened again, and Facilier wondered if he’d gone too far. By then, they had gotten to the weedy alleyway that lead to his shop, with the skull painted above the doorway. They could raise their voices once more.

“I know it’s my fault,” Luxord said, and Facilier relaxed a little as they padded down the cobblestones. “You trusted me, and I betrayed that trust, and so you were right to throw me out.”

“I still can’t believe that the most genuine apology I’ve gotten from someone is you after you helped trick a twelve year old into stabbing himself for your freaky cult,” Facilier said.

“He was fourteen – “

“Don’t care,” Facilier said. “I know you can’t leave or you’ll die, but I’m still tossing you out again if you mangle another kid. Got it?”

“I understand,” Luxord said, bowing his head. “How can I be expected to be at your right hand if I cannot live up to your standards?”

“You know it’s pretty sad that I’m the moral center of this relationship?” Facilier said, and was glad the shadows of the alley hid the expression on his face. “The Shadow Man’s supposed to be the biggest, baddest guy in New Orleans, you know? I feed people to monsters.”

“Then perhaps I can be one of your monsters. I do like eating whatever you bring to me.”

“Don’t make this weirder than it already is,” Facilier teased, and laughed as Luxord leaned up on his toes. Even though he was alone, they were still outside – he pulled his hat down to cover their faces so that Luxord could kiss him unseen.

Luxord kissed like he was in worship, chastely pressing against Facilier’s lips as if giving an offering. Facilier returned the kiss in kind, holding onto Luxord’s broad shoulders to steady him. Facilier understood from the movies that there was sometimes a suggestion of lips or tongue in this kind of situation, but neither of them had much experience in this kind of thing, and Facilier was fine taking it slow.

The very fact that he had someone to kiss at all was still a shock. He’d woken up this morning to Luxord sleeping fully clothed on his bed, over the covers, and had to sit back and think about his life for ten minutes.

“You look pensive,” Luxord said as he settled on his heels. “What is it?”

“Thinking about how ridiculous this all is,” Facilier admitted.

“Which part? That you’re working arm in arm with an undead alien menace? That the organization I work for remains willing to sacrifice children to it’s cause? That a solid half of my family is in potential deadly danger because a fourteen year old with a magic sword is out for blood?”

“I was thinking that it was the part where I’m dating the undead alien menace, but the others work too.” Facilier cuffed Luxord with his hat. “What is it with your family and stalking teenagers, anyway?”

“I thought you had been cured of the delusion my family has anything resembling common sense months ago,” Luxord said.

“That would imply I thought they had it in the first place,” Facilier said. “No, what I’m looking for is common decency.”

“We don’t have that either.”

“There better not be a ‘we’ about it or I’ll stop dating you again,” Facilier said. “I may not be able to ask the rest of your Organization to stop trying to murder a fourteen year old for the fate of the universe, but I sure can ask you.”

“I’ll try not to aid and abet teenager maiming from now.”

“No ‘try’. You do it, or you’re back out.”

Luxord bowed his head, deferential. “As you say.”

“Good. Now come on.” Facilier took Luxord’s gloved hand and lead him back to his shop. It took a moment to unlock the door one-handed as Luxord’s hands engulfed his, the worn leather soft on his calloused skin. It was enough to almost make Facilier drop his keys.

But he got it done.

Facilier’s shop was lit up with a few small electrical lamps. Between them and the fresh morning sun sweeping in through the door, the shop looked more like a shabby knick-knack shop than a den of the supernatural. Bundles of herbs hung from the ceiling over fake voodoo dolls and handmade tourist trash.

Really, the only thing that indicated this was home to anything out of the ordinary were the seven masks with glowing eyes floating in the air at eye height.

“Really,” Facilier deadpanned as he closed the door behind him. “The seven of you couldn’t wait another hour to stick your noses into this?”

**It has been some time since Luxord has appeared here,** the largest of the masks said.  **We wished to check in on him.**

**After all, you spent all night rambling at each other instead of doing anything fun,** said one of the smaller masks.  **All that boring forgiveness stuff instead of getting phy-si-cal –**

Luxord’s deck of cards burst into their full size, the height and width of a man, and smacked the mask into the floor. “I hate that one. Why do you even have that one? The others are perfectly terrifying and malevolent, and then there’s this voyeur.”

“Can a Nobody hate?” Facilier asked.

“If I can’t, I can mimic it,” Luxord said, and stomped on the mask a couple times for good measure. “I can’t kill a Heartless, but I can make it shut up.”

**Yes, put on a show for us, Nothing Man!**

**Let’s see you do your worst!**

“I forgot how bad the peanut gallery was,” Luxord sighed. “I spent all my time with the pleasant two and forgot how obnoxious the rest are.”

**Which one of us are the pleasant ones?** Taunted the mask with blood red lips.

“Not you, Murderess, you are incapable of remaining silent when any inane thought crosses what remains of your mind,” Luxord said. “And not this one, that looks and sounds like a baby.”

**Hey!** Said the Brat, wide face splitting with a pout.  **I’m not a kid! I was twelve when I became like this!**

“A baby,” Luxord repeated, ignoring him. “Bull, I realize that good helpers are difficult to find, but really?”

The largest mask shrugged, insomuch as a large bull’s head made of wood can shrug.  **Only so many human hearts can become creatures like me. Only the strongest and most unpleasant of souls could survive that dive into darkness and keep their minds intact.**

“Then there’s this one,” Luxord said, and waved his hand at the mask with the large teeth. “The one who thinks he’s an alligator and still owes me a new shirt.”

**And how do you expect a demon to go clothes shopping?**

“One, you’re a Heartless, not a demon, and two, I know you can manifest hands. Knit me a sweater.”

**Awfully pushy for someone who slunk back to the house begging forgiveness, aren’t you?** said the mask of the old man.

“Awfully mouthy for someone who’s been feasting on souls because of me these past three months, aren’t you?” Luxord retorted. “An old Soldier and a toothless Gator can go sit with the Brat in the useless corner, as far as I’m concerned.”

**For someone with no soul and no emotions, you’re in quite the mood,** said the last mask; her eyes crinkled, and the aged outline of her cheekbones warped with a smile.  **We missed you too, child. It’s been too quiet in this house without you.**

“Thank you, Poisoner,” Luxord said, and he clasped his hands behind his back. “I missed you as well, although I must point out that I am merely a skilled actor, a prince of pantomime.”

“Luxord, stop antagonizing the monsters who live in my house,” Facilier said, rubbing his temples.

“They started it,” Luxord said primly.

“Yes, but you should know better than to finish it.” 

**We are glad to see you return,** the Bull said, cutting short the protests of the other masks. **We shall hope that we shall return to our previous business, as well.**

“I hope to do so too, although I cannot do so today,” Luxord said, and Facilier watched him folding up his smile, pulling back on the emotionless mask he wore around other people. The life drained from his eyes, and suddenly he was the waxen doll that had entered Facilier’s life six months ago, not the laughing man he’d been just a few minutes before. “I’ve stayed here too long, in any case. My Organization is waiting for me.”

**Very well. We shall be waiting for you** , the Bull said. 

**Bring us a gift next time,** Poisoner said.  **It might get these hooligans to calm down a little** .

“As you say.” Luxord swept into a half bow to the floating masks, then turned to Facilier. He took his hand and brought it to his lips. Facilier’s heart flipped in his chest as Luxord looked up at him through lidded eyes. “I will return as soon as it is safe to.”

“Good. Don’t die,” Facilier murmured. It was ridiculous, how he’d gotten so attached to the man - but the man himself was ridiculous so that probably was expected. “I can’t get paid by a dead man.”

“I’ll be sure to come back to you,” Luxord said. “I’ll probably be in some trouble for running off, but they’re going to need everyone functioning. Even if only one is dead, half of our number are trapped at Castle Oblivion until the keybearer is stopped, and then Roxas is in a coma and Xion’s still in training, so we’re going to be severely short staffed. They need me.” 

Facilier stopped, digesting this new information. “I know Roxas. He’s Sora’s Nobody, and now Sora’s a disembodied heart in a person body and you never did explain why he was in a coma. But who’s Xion?”

“Oh.” Luxord had the decency to look sheepish. “They’re another new recruit. They joined a week after Roxas did, and is in similar delicate condition. Still remembering how to talk and so forth. It takes some time to get back on your feet after manifesting as a Nobody. Usually it’s only a few days, but the two of them seem as though they were both in their teens when it happened. I’m assuming their youth is making the transition longer.”

“I have questions about all this, but I don’t think we’ve got time for them, so I’ll make it short. One, can I do anything to help wake Roxas up?”

“Not that I know of,” Luxord said. “We’ve tried every magic and medical technique that we know, but you know things we don’t…”

“Then I’ll try and think of something,” Facilier said. He probably couldn’t do anything, but the thought of not trying to help a sickly teenager, even an undead one, left a bad taste in his mouth. And Luxord would pay him for it, so it wasn’t as if he was getting soft and being charitable or something.  “Two, this Xion kid - is anyone looking out for them right now?”

“I don’t know. It’s been one thing after another - “

“Then you do it,” Facilier said. He tossed his cane up, caught it, and tapped Luxord’s shoulder with it. “Or try to, unless it’ll get you hurt. You’re the only one who seems to have a fraction of a conscience, so try and keep the kid out of trouble. Got it?”

“I understand.” Luxord smiled, steadying Facilier when his knee twitched at the effort of bearing weight without the cane. “You’re sweet.”

Facilier’s face heated. “Shush. I’m the Shadow Man, and as dangerous as they come. Bad luck comes to people who let kids die on their watch, and I’m not letting that fall on you.” He brought his cane down between them with an authoritative thunk. “Now get out of here before your boss gets cranky.”

“As you command, I obey. I’ll strive to be here in two days, by sunset,” Luxord said. “I’ll bring your backpay, then.”

“I didn’t say anything about needing backpay,” Facilier pointed out. “Besides, I threw you out of the house. Wouldn’t that mean that our contract was broken?”

“You let me back in, thus re-engaging it. Thus I owe you,” Luxord returned. “And the restaurant was all agog that you were out of your house after a month of moping. It sounds like you’ve barely made a cent recently. You’ll get the money whether you want it or not.”

“You bully.” Facilier leaned down to kiss Luxord, soft and swift. “Don’t blame me when you find out I’m only in this for the money.”

“How foolish. I’m the one after your heart, you know. Is the money enough to risk your soul?”

“I’ve risked it for less.” 

Luxord popped onto his toes to kiss Facilier again. He still tasted like powdered sugar. “Try not to before I return.” And with that, he opened the door that lead from Facilier’s shop and up to his bedroom; to the ladder of the trapdoor out of the bedroom and to the roof, where Luxord could tear a hole in the world and travel back to his own, leaving only black sand and ash in his wake. 

Facilier waited there in his shop until he heard the echo of the trap door close behind Luxord. Then he collapsed into a chair, covered his face with his top hat and shrieked softly.

**That was so adorable, I’m going to be sick** , said the Murderess.

“Then go do it somewhere else,” Facilier said through his hat. “If anyone’s got something smart to say, they can say it and leave.”

**I’m just glad we got the meal ticket back. It’s not like you’re very good at bringing us souls,** the Soldier commented before going back to his mask and settling back on the wall to sleep.

The Gator added,  **If I owe him a shirt, he owes me an arm. Ass.**

And one by one, each mask in turn hung itself on the wall until there were just two left.

**I am glad he has returned** , the Bull said before settling on the wall.  **Our partnership has been fruitful. Perhaps you will pay your debt to us before you turn grey.**

“I can only hope,” Facilier said. “You said I only had some sixteen hundred souls to get you now, didn’t you?”

**That is right. He’s paid a fourth of your debt to us with the Heartless he feeds us. Whether they be living souls or dead, they still sate us. Your soul will be yours to keep soon - unless you decide you want something more from us** , the Bull said, and then the eyes of their mask went dark.

“No thanks,” Facilier muttered before lowering his hat. 

The Poisoner’s mask still hung in the air; darkness like smoke filled out around it until she manifested around it, an old woman in the loose, shabby clothing of a century past. Her kinky hair was up in a tight bun; her frail fingers were deceptively strong as she leaned forward to pat his head as a grandmother might.

**Give me a soul** , she said,  **and I’ll help you make something that might wake the child Roxas up.**

Facilier exhaled before nodding. **“** I walked right into that one. Put a soul on my debt; let’s see if we can get the kid up.”

* * *

 

From the roof to the World of Darkness,where the only light came from pinpricks reflected in enormous crystals and black sand got into boots and pockets alike. Luxord walked the path from Facilier’s house on the world of Bayou Boulevard back to the World That Never Was slowly.

A Nobody could not dread, having no heart, but he still felt a tightness in his chest finding the familiar path. He rained fire on the mindless Heartless who tried to get in his way, but even this proof of his victory over them did not dispel the feeling - 

No, it was not a feeling. It was a memory of what he should be feeling. A physical reaction to going home. Nothing more.

Luxord placed a hand on his shoulder, where Facilier had touched him, and sucked in breath. Steeled himself. Tore a hole in the world and warped into the Grey Room, where members of the Organization came and left on missions.

The massive windows showed slate skies and massive empty skyscrapers, as usual. Saix, who assigned jobs to each member on each day, was not there. 

Instead, Xigbar was lounging on one of the couches, not bothering to look up from the book he was reading. “Took you long enough. Did you get that tantrum out of your system?” 

“Wouldn’t you say that beings without hearts can’t have tantrums?” Luxord asked dryly.

“Sure didn’t stop you from having one, little brother.” Xigbar snapped the book shut, and his lone golden eye twitched up to Luxord. “We can’t all be Roxas and drop into a coma when someone doesn’t kowtow to our delicate sensibilities or if someone we like may or may not be dead.”

“Even our step-parents?” 

“Dad married three times. I stopped getting attached after your mom died,” Xigbar said. “Vexen and his boytoy were nice and all, but if they’re dead, they're dead. Get over it.”

“Our stepbrother?”

“If Zexion gets killed, it’s his own damn fault. What am I supposed to do about it?” 

Luxord sighed. “You are always so,” cold, “pragmatic. I suppose I will have to follow suit.”

“What, you’re not gonna bitch about any of the others? Nothing for Larxene and Marluxia?”

“Why would I care about them being dead? We never got along.”

“And Axel?” Xigbar asked, his eye glinting. “You were awfully mad when I was talking about Roxas fainting when he heard he might have kicked it.”

Luxord hadn’t thought of him, at first. It wasn’t fair to Axel. They were friends, as much as Nobodies could be friends. They weren’t paired on missions often, but they often discussed how frustrating their coworkers were. How dull life in the Organization was. 

He’d been overwhelmed with the thought of his stepparents and little brother dying. But now - Axel had just become his friend, and he’d lost him too. 

“Axel brawls with the Heartless all the time. I doubt he’ll die too easily,” Luxord answered. “He is our muscle, after all.”

“Good, good.” Xigbar reached up and flicked Luxord’s forehead. Despite the leather gloves, it stung enough that Luxord suspected it would bruise. “Well, since you’re now the lowest in rank of us main thirteen available, you’re on babysitting duty.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Babysitting.” Xigbar gestured towards the door. Luxord looked up to see Xion there, cloaked head staring into a cup of tea from the Incubator of Caff e ine. “Vexen was still running Poppet through their paces when the Castle Oblivion gig started. Someone’s got to make sure they’re up and ready to go slay some Heartless, and it sure isn’t going to be me.”

“I suppose I had that coming,” Luxord said, and he bowed his head in imitation of respect. “Very well. Since Saix isn’t here, do you have our assignment for the day?”

“Course I do. Xion, get over here!” 

Xion carefully finished drinking their tea, placed the used cup on one of the tables, and stood in front of Xigbar and Luxord carefully. 

“Congrats. You get to play big brother again,” Xibar said, grinning nastily at Luxord. “Have fun.”


	2. Day 28: Thalassa Shells

“I don’t know why Xigbar thought this was a good idea,” Luxord said.

He and Xion were huddled in a treehouse overlooking an island beach. Luxord had pulled the dirty cloth that functioned as a door over the entrance over it, only keeping it open a sliver to peek out.

There were people playing on the beach. Children. Teenage girls with sloppy ponytails and boys in shorts and loose overalls. Yelling, tossing a ball back and forth, playing with sticks as if they were swords. The oldest looking of them, a red haired girl in white and washed out purple, sat at the edge of the sand and stared into the distance, seemingly unaware of the waves that soaked her skirt.

“How am I supposed to test Xion’s reflexes here? We can’t be seen by the people who live here, and this island is clearly visited often. Did he even scout this place properly?” Luxord muttered to himself. “This is an unsuitable testing ground.”

Xion said nothing. Luxord couldn’t gauge their reaction with their hood up, their face in shadow. He didn’t know if they were lucid enough to have a reaction. It had taken Luxord a good week after his rebirth to string together more than a few words at once, and he’d been well into his twenties at that point. No doubt it was harder to recover for someone who seemed to be barely into their teens.

“We’ll have to stick this out so I can complain to Saix,” Luxord said. “We’ll get a better training ground tomorrow. Can you handle waiting another hour?”

Xion’s head bobbled. They stepped forward and peeked out from behind the curtain. Luxord held it up for them as their head tilted from side to side, questioning. “Who...is that?”

They raised their hand to point at the redhead. Luxord quickly lowered it before someone saw them. “That is,” he said, and he squinted and thought, “someone who lives here.”

He had seen that girl before, hadn’t he? She’d been the one Sora had rescued back when he’d stabbed himself. Luxord hadn’t been assigned to follow Sora and keep track of his activities, didn’t know her name or her importance. She must have been one of Sora’s friends, he supposed. Perhaps she was sitting in the sand and missing Sora or that other boy Sora had stabbed, what’s his name. Whatever.

“She lost her friend and she misses him,” Luxord said.

Xion turned to look at him. Their face was blank, but Luxord read the question in it anyway. “Missing means that someone was there, and now that person isn’t there, and so she feels sad.”

A roll of shoulders. “I,” Xion said, speaking with careful deliberation, “miss Roxas.”

“Nobodies don’t have emotions,” Luxord said automatically. Xion’s shoulders fell, and he hastily added, “But you can still miss someone without having emotions. Roxas helped train you, didn’t he?”

Xion nodded.

“His presence was a good thing for you. It’s perfectly logical to miss that,” Luxord said. “Would you like to go see him when we’re done here?”

Another nod.

“I don’t think anyone would mind that. Do you know where his room is?”

A shake of the head.

“I’ll show you. Can you manage waiting for an hour before we return?”

Nod.

“Good. It seems like no one wants to come up here, so we can hide out for now. I’ll teach you how to play Solitaire, how’s that?”

* * *

 

It turned out Xion was not lucid enough to learn card games. But after an hour, the children left. Luxord and Xion went down to the beach.

Xion stomped their boots in the ocean while Luxord set up the basic obstacle course Xigbar had sent him with. He hung small medallions in the air with magic while Xion took off their gloves and dug bare hands into the sun-warmed sand.

“It’s ready,” Luxord said, and then Xion stuck their wood-brown hand in his face. “Oh?”

“What’s this?”

“It’s a shell,” Luxord said, and delicately picked it up. It was flat and shaped like an oblong diamond, and went from ivory yellow to sunset pink. “The thalassa clam lives only in these waters; they’re difficult to eat but often produce pearls, and their shells are known for their beauty. They’re often smuggled off these islands to make jewelry. You have a discerning eye.”

Xion stared at the shell. In the shadows of their hood, Luxord couldn’t tell the color of their eyes, but could see them crease slightly, considering.

“Would Roxas like it?”

“I think so. Here, come with me.”

Luxord walked her across the beach, away from the obstacle course, and climbed up a ledge and over a short bridge to a smaller island just off the island. A white-trunked tree had grown sideways there from constant exposure to the wind. Luxord pointed,and Xion climbed up and sat on the sideways trunk as he looked through the leaves of the tree until he found what he needed.

“Do you see this fruit?” Luxord said, and moved a branch up so Xion could see the golden star-shaped fruit hanging from it. “It’s said that when two people eat it, they’ll be joined together forever in matri - well, forever, anyway.”

Xion nodded, leaning forward.

Luxord held the shell up to the fruit, showing how it looked like one of the five legs. “People take the shells and tie them together to look like this fruit to make a lucky charm. They give the fruit and the charm to the person they want to be with forever. It’s a message that says that, no matter what happens, we are connected.”

Xion plucked the shell from his hand reverently and held it to their chest. “It means….I want to see Roxas again.”

“That too,” Luxord agreed. He didn’t think Xion was interested in Roxas the way the islanders usually used the fruit -  as a proposal of marriage - but even offworld, the star charm was a symbol of a relationship that would never end, whether platonic or romantic. It was a message that he thought they would want to send Roxas, given their sudden but unsurprising devotion to the one person who had spent time with them before.

“It’s for Roxas,” Xion said.

“You should put it in your pocket so it’s safe,” Luxord said. “We’ll give it to him when we’re done with our mission. Are you ready?”

~

“You found all the medals. Good job. Do you want any more shells to give Roxas?”

Xion shook their head.

“Then we’re ready to return to the castle. We call it RTC for short.”

“Arr Tee Cee.”

“Close enough. Follow me.” Luxord opened a passage to the world of darkness and stepped in. Xion followed. They walked the dark path away from the Destiny Islands, away, until Xion tugged on Luxord’s sleeve.

“What is it?”

“Ice cream.”

“What?”

“Roxas needs ice cream,” Xion said. They pointed at the little signpost that directed Organization members to the place where they would warp to Twilight Town and buy supplies.

“Roxas is asleep. He can’t have ice cream,” Luxord said.

“Roxas needs ice cream,” Xion repeated. “Icing on the cake.”

That was the kind of phrasing Axel always used. He must have told Roxas, who told Xion, who now repeated the words of a dead man like a particularly morbid parrot.

His little sister had been like that too. Kairi would tug on his sleeves and demand he help her get extra dessert, even if she hadn’t eaten all of her vegetables at dinner. He had never been very good at resisting her. She’d been a cute four year old, and long days at college wore down what resistance he would have had against her big dewy eyes.

“If we get ice cream, will you be good when we visit Roxas?”

A nod.

“Then let’s get ice cream.”

Xion lead the way from the world of darkness to Twilight Town, up the red-brick street that wound up the hill to the train station, up to where a little old lady ran an ice cream stand.

“You again,” she said as Xion practically dragged Luxord forward. “And you brought another friend!”

A nod. Luxord waved, smiling politely.

“Still on Mr. Axel’s tab?”

A nod. Luxord ignored the way his chest clenched at the name.

The woman pulled out two ice creams and handed it to them. “Go on and have fun.”

Xion tore open the wrapper and bit into their soft blue ice cream. Luxord shooed them over to a nearby bench before going to talk to the ice cream woman. “I don’t mean to disturb you, but how much is left in Axel’s...ice cream account?”

“Not much. He hasn’t been around recently. I’m guessing he’s on black coat business again?”

Axel, we’re not supposed to be seen by civilians, Luxord thought, but kept his smile steady. Luxord had vendors in Twilight Town that he bought supplies from, and they’d never raised a fuss about the Organization as long as the money came in. He assumed that it would be much the same with other salespeople.  “Axel is, and we don’t know when he’s going to be back. I’d like to put some more money in his account, as it were, so that we can keep using it.”

“Of course, of course.” The woman opened her till as Luxord patted down his pockets for all the munny he had on him; she gave him a concerned look as he gave her what he had. “Is everything alright?”

“Of course,” Luxord lied.

“Nothing happened to Mr. Axel?”

Luxord’s smile flickered. “We...don’t know. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you anything more.”

“Of course.” She tried and failed to shake the sudden melancholy air off. “He was always joking about how he’d have to kill me if I knew what his job was.”

Luxord’s smile twitched. “He always was a joker. Please excuse me.” He left before she could ask any more questions, and before he could start muttering about how Axel had all the subtlety of an axe in a barn door.

Xion had devoured most of their ice cream by the time he sat on the bench next to them. “Roxas eats up there,” they said and pointed up at the clock tower over the train station.

“My goodness. That must be quite a climb.”

A nod.

“Is the view good from up there?”

A nod.

“We can’t go up there today. Can you wait until tomorrow?”

A hesitant nod.

“Good. Do you want to take this to Roxas?” Luxord said, and he offered Xion his own unopened ice cream to Xion.

Another hesitation. “That’s your ice cream.”

“Yes, but you wanted to take some to Roxas, didn’t you?”

Xion’s eyes narrowed as they considered this. Luxord stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt their toy train of thought, until they finally declared, “Luxord’s icing on the cake.”

“My - oh.” He looked at the ice cream. ‘Are you sure?”

A nod.

“Very well.” He peeled open the ice cream and didn’t flinch as the smell of nostalgia hit him: Vanilla painstakingly grown in greenhouses to protect them from Radiant Garden’s cold, and sea salt harvested from the ocean harbor around the capitol. It was always colored the same pale blue as the glacial ice that covered a good fourth of their world.

Sea salt ice cream. It had been his father’s favorite, and Vexen’s, and Lexaeus’s. And his little brother Zexion’s. And his mentor Scrooge’s. And Axel’s. And that of so many others back on Radiant Garden, before it had fallen. Before everyone had died.

He bit into it. The taste was familiar. Moisture dripped down his face. It was most likely sweat. The ice cream was melting in Twilight Town’s summer heat. So was he.

“Is it bad?”

Luxord startled. He turned to find Xion staring at him, concern writ in their eyes. “What - was I making a face?”

A nod.

“No, no, it’s not bad,” Luxord said quickly. He wiped the excess moisture from his face. “I was just thinking about all the people I knew who liked sea salt ice cream. None of them are here anymore, and I miss them.”

Xion nodded solemnly. “Like Roxas?”

“Yes, like how you miss Roxas.” He offered them his half-eaten ice cream. “Do you want to finish it? I don’t think I can.”

“Okay.”

Luxord sat and regained his composure while Xion took bites out of their ice cream. He had his smile affixed on properly by the time they threw away their trash and headed back to the world of darkness.

* * *

 

“The training went well. However, the area Xigbar chose is in active use…”

“Pick another one,” Saix said, not looking up from his paperwork. “I don’t care where as long as you can finish Vexen’s tests. And take the paperwork to Xigbar; I have no use for it.”

“Of course.” Luxord bowed his head to Saix in acknowledgment, then lead Xion away, out from Saix’s office and through the portals that lead to the Organization sleeping quarters.

Roxas’s room looked the same as the others. A white room, a white wardrobe, a white bed. Roxas asleep on the bed, a half-dozen silver Dusks fretting over him.

“We don’t need to eat or drink, but it does help if he eats a little,” Luxord explained. “They’re giving him potions every hour or so to make sure he stays healthy.” He didn’t know if it would help, but it certainly made everyone feel a little better.

“Good,” Xion said. They dragged a chair over to Roxas’s side and placed the thalassa shell on the bed next to his pillow.

Luxord waited for them to get up. They did not.

“Are you staying here with Roxas?”

A nod.

“Do you want me to wait for you?”

Xion shook their head.

“I’ll take care of our paperwork. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

A nod.

Luxord let them be and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Xion's pronouns - Xion hasn't let down her hood for Luxord yet and hasn't indicated how she's feeling gender-wise to the Organization at large, so Luxord's using they/them until she's ready to talk about that kind of thing.


	3. Day 29: Ambush

“We’re training in Twilight Town today,” Luxord said, and he gestured around the vacant lot. “No one’s using this today, so we should be fine.”

“Where is the beach?” Xion asked.

“About an hour by train away, I’m afraid,” Luxord said. “Did Vexen go over basic magic with you?”

“Can we go to the beach?”

Luxord frowned. 

“I know basic magic,” Xion said. “Can we go to the beach?”

“Not until we do some magic lessons. We’re going to practice how to recognize elemental weaknesses and how to aim,” Luxord said, and he held up a rainbow of frisbees. “Fortunately, the Heartless do tend to color-code themselves.”

“I have to go to the beach,” Xion said. 

“Why?”

“I need shells.”

“For Roxas?” 

A nod. 

“You can go to the beach when we’re done,” Luxord said. “I’ll take you there. But you have to finish the mission first.”

Xion pouted, then drew their keyblade. It had a marvelously simple design: a gold-plated handle and a long steel bar attached to it, with only teeth forming the outline of a crown to mark it as a key and not a fancy bat. It did not look particularly dangerous, but Luxord felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick up as they waved the weapon around before settling into a fighting stance.

Luxord threw the blue frisbee. “Fire!”

Xion reacted at once. Light shone along the keyblade as they aimed, then cast - “Fire!”

An orb of flame shot out and smashed into the frisbee, knocking it out of its arc. Luxord picked it up gingerly; it was singed around the middle, where Xion had hit it with their spell. 

That was good to know, Luxord thought. Their mind still seemed to be that of a young child, but they had at least as much magical skill as a teen - and the aim of one who’d trained hard, as well. And though the bracer Xion wore on their wrist held only the materia to allow them to cast very basic spells, they had enough magic power to make the spells pack a punch. 

They’d be dangerous when they were competent enough to cast proper magic.

“Good job,” Luxord said, blowing smoke away from the frisbee, “but that was just a warm up.” He readied the other three frisbees he’d brought with him. “Let’s try this again.”

* * *

  


Xion blew through the magic practice easily. Luxord escorted them to the beach on Destiny Island, and they picked out a small, pink shell to offer to Roxas. They left to get ice cream and see the boy, and Luxord’s feet found a familiar trail.

The landscape of the dark world flew by as Luxord found the path to Bayou Boulevard, to Facilier’s house, and Luxord practically leapt through the portal he opened to that world. Flung the trapdoor open, jumped down to Facilier’s room, and spun to find himself in trouble.

Facilier was there at his kitchen table. That was expected.

Some of Facilier’s extended family was there. That was not. 

“Luxord!” shrieked Facilier’s seven year old niece, Boni, and she launched herself from her chair and at Luxord. He stepped forward to catch her before she could smack her face against his knees and ended up with her crawling up him, not stopping until she was sitting piggyback on his shoulders.

“Oh - Miss Boni - I don’t know if you should be up there - “

“You’ve been gone all month!!” 

“Yes, but - “

“You made Uncle Lazare sad!!”

“It wasn’t on purpose - “ Luxord spun around, trying to grab the girl as she wriggled away from him, and caught a glimpse of Facilier hiding laughter behind his hand. “This is not funny.”

“You’re absolutely right. It’s hilarious,” Facilier snickered. 

Luxord finally caught the kicking little girl and carried her over, placed her in her father’s lap. “Melvin, Annette, it’s lovely to see you two again.”

Melvin Facilier wrapped an arm around his daughter before she could jump on Luxord again, and straightened his glasses with his shoulder before he responded. “It’s good to see you too, Luxord. It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

“Indeed it has.” Facilier nudged a chair over and Luxord took it gratefully. “I hope my absence didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“You left cousin Lazare moping,” Annette Facilier said. She leaned forward, her neatly straightened bangs falling in her eyes. “You know, he barely left his house all month?”

“Annette,” Facilier groaned. 

“What kind of argument does that, hm?”

“Is it the kind that’s appropriate for other people to hear about?” Luxord asked Facilier, who shook his head. “It’s one that I apologized for,” he told Annette,  “and that’s all you need to know.” 

“You apologized to him?” Annette asked.

“That is, in general, what one does when they make an error,” Luxord said.

“Come on, Luxord…” Annette said, eyes gleaming.

“The argument was in fact about ‘nunya’,” Facilier said.

“Are you making a ‘nunya business’ joke, Lazare.”

“I won’t have to if you stop sticking your nose in my business, Annette.”

“You may have apologized to Uncle Lazare, but now you have to apologize to me,” Boni announced, staring Luxord dead in the eyes. “You left so suddenly!”

“I apologize for disappearing on you,” Luxord said, and he bowed to her, forehead to table. “I’ll try not to do it again.” 

Boni studied him with dark and glittering eyes. “I forgive you,” she said as benevolently as a queen, “but you can’t do it again. Faith missed you.”

“Faith?” Luxord asked.

Annette wordlessly lifted the baby in her lap. Pudgy, brown, big-eyed and clad in periwinkle, she ogled Luxord as if he was another surprise in a surprising world.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about the kid you helped me with already,” Annette said. 

“Do not try and sucker Luxord with the baby,” Facilier said.

Luxord said, “It’s too late. I am suckered. Can I hold her?”

“Of course. You’ve done this before?”

“I had a sister born when I was sixteen, I know how,” Luxord said, and held his arms out until Annette placed the baby in his arms. 

Faith Adelaide Kairi Facilier studied Luxord for a moment, then grabbed for Luxord’s earrings. Luxord dodged just in time, but then she put her hands on his face and went for his hair. 

“It’s almost been six months, hasn’t it? She’s growing wonderfully,” Luxord said as Faith tried to lift herself up using Luxord’s head as leverage, then fell back down onto his lap. “Lazare, stop snickering, this is a normal milestone in a baby’s development.” 

“What, grabbing at the earrings she always grabs at on you?”

“No, trying to stand. But grabbing is a good sign, too. Has she been leaving your pigtails alone, Boni?” 

“Mhm!” Boni said. “I talk to her a lot so she knows what’s going on.”

“Excellent. That will help her speak faster,” Luxord said, patiently letting Faith pull herself up with his head again. “You know, babies learn language faster than they learn how to speak? So she’s listening to you all the time.”

“I told her she’s gonna be really pretty,” Boni said. “And that she had lots of help being born so she’s gonna have really good luck.”

“I should hope so,” Luxord said.

“Yeah! She hasn’t gotten sick at all!” 

“Good.” Luxord peeked out from behind Faith. “You’ve all been healthy, haven’t you?” 

“We have been,” Melvin said, looking relieved to finally hop into the conversation again. “Remarkably so, in fact. I’d say those good luck charms you gave us at the Fourth of July party worked.” 

“Excellent. I thought long and hard about what I wanted to bring everyone to celebrate, and that kind of jewelry seemed appropriate,” Luxord said. “Ah, speaking of which, I do have some gems.”

Melvin’s smile faltered. “Unfortunately, I can’t. I’ve had some, ah, people questioning where I got such high quality jewels, so I can’t do that right now.”

Facilier mouthed ‘white people.’ Luxord nodded. “Of course. I understand. I’ll simply find another source of revenue. Think nothing of it.”

Melvin relaxed a little. Luxord bounced Faith on his lap a couple times before handing her back to Annette, pulling out one of his notebooks. He scribbled a quick line out on a piece of paper before handing it to Melvin, then looked over to Boni. “Here, I’ll draw you whatever you request.” 

“Really?? I wanna see an alien!” Boni said, diving over to his side while Melvin and Annette looked over what he’d given them.

Luxord only ended up leaving a few hours later, Boni appeased and reassurances given to Melvin and Annette that he really didn’t mind and the baby coddled and Facilier kissed once it was just the two of them in the house.

“You’ve got a plan, I take it?” Facilier asked.

“The beginnings of one. I was at risk of flooding the market with high quality gems, anyway. It’s time for me to make a reliable market here - and one you can reap the benefits of when I’m away on business,” Luxord said. 

“Can you set that up without getting me in trouble?” 

“I think so.” Luxord tapped the paper he was holding: a list labled WHAT RICH PEOPLE WOULD DIE FOR. “But I’m going to need a favor that you won’t like.”

“Go on.”

“Get me a meeting with that rich man Lebouf.”

Facilier made a face. “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today on 1/13/2019, it's Dead Men's Party's four year and four day anniversary! And we've got about 15 days to go until KH3 comes out! Holy smokes! 
> 
> I'm going into a really busy semester and KH3, so updates are going to be even more erratic than usual. I had originally intended to finish this fic before kh3 came out (ahahaha whoops) but there is still a lot more waiting to be written, and although I have some ideas on how to to work in some of the Kh3 plot revelations in, I suspect there's enough coming up that I'll be doing a lot of revisions on the story calendar.)
> 
> But, you know, four years - I"m continually amazed at the positive reaction this story has gotten and all the people I've met through it! I don't always get to comments quickly, but I read them all and they're all so important to me. Thank you for your trust in my writing, and for reading and continuing to read! 
> 
> No matter what happens - this story began with the idea that 'Facilier and Luxord should get a happy ending,' and it's going to end with it. It may take another four years, but I hope you all come with me on this wild ride to the end! 
> 
> And I want to thank my beta and co-writer chu for sticking with me and with this for so long- this story wouldn't exist without her!!!


	4. Day 30: First Domino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kingdom Hearts 3 release tomorrow! I'm so excited!! 
> 
> This fanfic will remain KH3 spoiler-free until the end of July. Please keep the comments spoiler-free until the end of March!

“We’re going to the beach this time,” Luxord told Xion as he closed the portal from The World That Never Was to the world of darkness.

Xion beamed. “I can get Roxas a shell!”

“You can, once you finish your mission,” Luxord said. “We’re going to a new beach today, too. The last one was on the Destiny Islands. This one is on Port au Prince.” 

“Why’s it different?”

“Port au Prince is a bigger island,” Luxord said. “There are mermaids in the ocean, though I don’t think we’ll see any. And there will be snacks.” 

“Snacks! What snacks?”

“It’s a surprise,” Luxord said, “for Nobodies who complete the mission.”

“Is it ice cream?!”

“We won’t know until we get there, will we?” 

“I want ice cream!” 

Xion practically skipped through the portal to Port au Prince. Luxord only came to this part of the world a few times a month; the Heartless on this world manifested in the ocean to harass the merfolk, and left the hardworking humans alone. Luxord either had to make excuses or sneak over as he did to Facilier to visit. 

This portal lead to a hut near the outskirts of the bustling port town. The path to the city proper wound around a junkyard, and the path away lead to a beach adorned with small docks. In front of the hut stood Luxord’s contact on this world: a tall being in a long trenchcoat, a hood and a mask, who was waving to them.

“Is that a Nobody too?” Xion asked. 

“She is,” Luxord said. “She works here, and for me, and sometimes she brings me snacks.” 

The Nobody removed her mask, revealing the t-shaped face of a Gambler, before bowing to the two of them.  _ My liege, I have prepared a meal and some supplies as you requested. The beach will be clear since the fishers are out for the day. _

“Excellent. What do we have here?” Luxord asked.

_ Sweet potato bread with peanut spread, fried plantains, a pickle salad, and shaved ice with fruit syrup -  _

“Ice cream,” Xion whispered. “Luxord, can I have the ice cream before it melts?”

“I suppose I can’t refuse a request like that in this heat,” Luxord said, unzipping his leather coat. “But then it’s straight to the mission, understood?”

“Yes!” 

As Xion devoured their shaved ice, Luxord sauntered over to Gambler. “Is our position in the black market here still stable?”

_ It is, my liege. I have the paperwork for you in the house, but to summarize, we are earning a reputation for rare materials used for item synthesis. The moogles who run synthing here are considering an informal alliance, given how often we collaborate.  _

“Don’t we already have trade relationships with the Mog Synthesis Guild?” Luxord asked.

_ We do, but these moogles are not part of them. You should engage in negotiations yourself, _ the Gambler said, and passed Luxord a business card. 

An address. A number to contact them via magic mirror. And their title: THE CULT OF KEFKA SYNTHESIS SHOP. 

“Oh, now that’s interesting. I believe you’re entitled to a bonus,” Luxord said. 

“Icing on the cake!” Xion chirped.

“Absolutely. Pass me some potato bread.” 

Luxord devoured his bread as the Gambler quickly went over their finances and what supplies Luxord should funnel into Port au Prince for maximum profit. The food and the discussion were almost done when the Gambler handed Luxord a few more sheets of paper.

“Someone put out bounties on the Heartless?” Luxord asked, skimming.

_ Mostly some rare species that show up in odd places. I imagine they were hoping Sora might see these, but we might be able to get our new recruit to deal with them. _

Luxord paused, staring down at a bounty for a set of tiny bell-shaped black Heartless that dropped jewels or lightning when bothered, and had become a pest to gamblers in Thebes.

He flipped to another one. 

Scorpion Heartless with pot carapaces in Agrabah, pests who only strike when attacked -but looked like the kind of chipped pots that kids liked knocking over. 

He flipped the page.

Pink monkey Heartless had taken over a good chunk of Traverse Town’s downtown, and had already taken half a dozen lives with their territorial nature. 

“You’re making a face. Is something wrong?” Xion asked.

“Of course not,” Luxord lied. 

How many strange Heartless had he commissioned the Friends on the Other Side to make? Zexion hadn’t been able to deal with the pink monkeys when Luxord had thrown them at him, but he’d been able to capture them once Zexion had fled, and stored them with the other monstrosities that had been made. Invisible Heartless, and great big ones that had shipwrecks for carapaces, and one that had inhabited the body of a broken robot...

And Saix had told him to unleash them all in Sora’s path. All of them. And Luxord had done it and forgotten because everyone had died at Castle Oblivion and they were all loose. And with Sora gone, no one could stop them.

“Are you sure?” Xion asked.

Almost no one could stop them, Luxord corrected. If defeated by a wielder of a keyblade, the Heartless would stay dead. And Xion would be working with him for the next few weeks.

“I’m sure,” Luxord said, and he folded up the bounties and put them in his pocket. “But let me ask you a question. Do you want to get more icing on the cake?”

“I like ice cream and want more!” 

“How about, next time we go out, we’ll go on an extra mission, and then you’ll get a big reward afterwards,” Luxord said.

_ Sir? _ Said the Gambler. 

“What extra mission? From Saix?”

“No, no, something on the side. Just the two of us,” Luxord said, and put a finger to his lips. “It’s our little secret.”

“Don’t the others need to know?” Xion asked.

_ Sir! _ Said the Gambler.

“What Xemnas doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Luxord said. “It’s not like we’re doing anything against the rules. We’re just killing a few extra Heartless so you get more practice. And icing.” 

“Yeah! Ice cream!” Xion said. 

“Icing.”

“Ice cream!” 

“Ice cream,” Luxord finally agreed. “Lots of ice cream. As much as you can carry.” 

“Yeah!!” 

“Let’s go set up,” Luxord said, and the Gambler put her empty sleeves on her hips, and Luxord amended, “Actually, can you go ahead and practice without me? I’ll be after you in a moment.”

“Okay!” Xion chirped, and they ran on ahead to the beach, manifesting their keyblade in a shimmer of light before going to beat up the stuffed dummy the Gambler had prepared beforehand.

When they were out of earshot, Luxord said, “What?”

_ My liege! Forgive me for my insolence, but what are you thinking?  _ The Gambler gestured at Xion _. We Gamblers, who have sworn to serve you, are certainly willing to risk our lives in operations outside of the Organization, but you can’t ask one of the Thirteen to do it! Especially one still recovering! _

“They’re the only one who can defeat them!” Luxord muttered. “And they’re No. XIV -”

_ They are still recovering their strength. And you should not put the keybearer at risk when they are our only hope to regain our hearts! And for what, money -  _

“No!” Luxord snapped.

The Gambler stepped back.

Luxord slapped a hand over his face, surprised at his own vehemence, and took a breath to calm his voice. “The Heartless in these are threatening Traverse Town and many other worlds. The Organization sent them to fight Sora, but he’s not here to do it, and I can’t just let them run wild.”

The Gambler did not have anything resembling a face to fake emotion with, but Luxord thought he could see understanding in how her stance shifted. 

_ Very well. If you insist upon this, then I suppose I cannot argue. But be careful, my liege. You can take us out of the line of danger, but we cannot do the reverse. _

“Of course I’ll be careful. And I’ll make sure Xion is safe. I’m your reliable liege, you know!” Luxord bowed elegantly, then popped back up. “Oh, and before I forget, I need to grab a few things for me while I train Xion…”


	5. Day 32: Supply and Demand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Kh3!!! Was good!!! A 95% good time!!
> 
> However, this fic was almost canceled because Luxord's minigame almost had me throw my ps4 controller through the tv screen. Only a timely rescue by the Kairi Protection Squad saved the day ;p

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Facilier asked.

“Probably,” Luxord said. “How do I look?”

“The same as usual. If you do end up getting some cash, we’re buying you a suit so you don’t stick out so much,” Facilier said as he adjusted Luxord’s hood. The door outside was cracked open just enough for a slice of sunlight to bring out the violet in Facilier’s grey eyes. “If you’re going to scam rich whites, you have to look the part.”

“Can I get it in pink?” Luxord asked. “It’s the only color on the Radiant Garden flag that looks good on me.”

“It’s your money. You can do whatever you want with it,” Facilier said in a tone that suggested that he personally thought pink was a terrible idea. “Now, go get that sugarcane money. LeBouf thinks you’re an honorable smuggler and that’s it, so don’t blow it.”

“I’ll endeavor not to,” Luxord said. “All smiles and niceties from me.”

“I know Lottie ticks you off, though I can’t for the life of me fathom why, but keep it under your hood.”

“I’m incapable of being ticked off,and furthermore, she keeps on acting like you’re her entertainment!”

“I am. That’s how I make money, remember? There’s not much profit in healing people,” Facilier said. “If I’m funny and harmless and sell junk, I’m not a threat. I’m just Facilier the fortune teller.”

“I still don’t like it,” Luxord said.

“I know, but think of it this way. Can you get mad at a jellyfish for stinging you when it’s got no brain?”

“Theoretically, I definitely could - “ A car honked. “ - and that’s my ride. Wish me luck.”

Facilier dipped down to brush a kiss to Luxord’s lips. “Make your luck good. And don’t screw it up.”

“Of course, my sorcerer,” Luxord said. Facilier’s cheeks went dark, and Luxord burned the image to his eyelids before he spun open the door and walked outside to the waiting car.

Mr. LeBouf’s car was painted gold, and the driver didn’t turn to look at Luxord as he took a seat next to the man. There were no magical barriers to protect him - natural on this world with little magic - but Luxord saw nothing of nonmagical security either. No weapons, no armor, no bodyguards, not even a roof on the car. It would be terribly easy for someone with a ranged weapon to land a hit. Easy for someone to just get in the car and snap a neck before anyone could react.

“Thank you for making a time for us to talk, Mr. Lebouf,” Luxord said, beaming as he offered his hand to shake. “I realize that a man as influential as you has a great deal going on in his life.”

“Please, you can call me Eli,” Mr. Lebouf said. 

“Thank you, Eli,” Luxord repeated. He kept his grip gentle in the handshake. Eli LeBouf had about eight inches and a hundred pounds on him, and Luxord had little doubt he’d crushed many overeager competitors hands in his lifetime. Only a fool would try and pull some sort of stupid stunt like that at a business meeting. Furthermore, if Luxord revealed his superior strength, it would be highly suspicious. 

They exchanged meaningless pleasantries as the car slid through the streets like an oiled eel. The restaurant they were dropped at was all chandeliers and silver filigree inside, white tile and white tablecloths, a mirror lit up with a hundred lights. The two of them were given a private room, separated by a delicate curtain, and there was a bottle of champagne waiting in a bucket of ice.

“When I suggested we meet in public, this wasn’t what I had in mind,” Luxord said. He’d thought it would be wise to meet in neutral territory to prevent an imbalance of power as well as to prove his own trustworthiness. “Not that I’m displeased. Far from it.”

“You’ve been showing off whenever you come to an event,” Mr. Lebouf said with a smile. “I believe it’s my turn.”

“Consider me shown,” Luxord said, nodding in turn. “Shall we?” 

The menus were resplendent. Luxord ordered modestly: a crawdad bisque, a salad of palm hearts and asparagus, and shrimp and mushrooms served with two sauces. He was well through the mild sweet and salty soup when Mr. LeBouf finally got down to business.

“Lazare said that you wanted to talk about pursuing a little commerce with me.”

How disrespectful. Only I can call him that, Luxord thought. He beamed at LeBouf. “Indeed. I know that you are a man of influence in this town - but more importantly, you are a man of honor. Your dedication to ethical behavior is high and above any other businessman in this town,” which wasn’t a particularly high bar, but he’d talked to Facilier about it and despite Facilier’s personal misgivings about the man, they had agreed he’d be the safest person to work with for selling offworld goods to.

“I’m flattered. And amazed you got that kind of recommendation from Lazare. He’s always been a prickly boy.”

He’s a grown man, Luxord thought. “He said that he and his mother had worked with your family for a long time. He knows what kind of person you are.” 

“They have. I’m just - surprised he’d recommend you of all people to me, knowing who you are.”

“Who I am?”

LeBouf looked surreptitiously around, then leaned in. “You’re magic like he is, aren’t you?”

Luxord kept his smile steady despite the shock, leaning forward in return, a finger to his mouth at once. 

“I know, I know, people aren’t supposed to know about that stuff, are they?”

“No, no, definitely not.” Dammit. “May I ask how I slipped up?”

“Mostly deduction. You’re always hanging out with Lazare, and his family’s always been special. His ma - she had a real gift for healing. And after the Fourth of July party, my farm hands up and stopped getting sick.You were the one who made a big production out of giving gifts to people.”

Well, Luxord had given out magic jewelry that would prevent sickness, that was true. He had thought only giving out little less than a hundred sets wouldn’t be particularly noticeable. But on a world like this, without the magic or technology to deal with epidemics, perhaps it had created herd immunity that they had otherwise lacked… Or perhaps the man was simply observant. 

Well. He couldn’t exactly explain his real reason for being here. He would simply say something adjacent to the truth.

“I am what I suppose you would call a wandering wizard,” Luxord murmured. “I seek a way to dispel a great curse upon my homeland. New Orleans is a unique gem in a world of pebbles, and so I am hoping there is something unique I can learn here.”

“I’ve heard you capture animals from here?”

Had he said that? He must have. Damn. “Now and then, yes. Studying the animals here to use in medicine ,studying the magical practices here… I face a most dire curse, and so I’ll try anything once.”

“Which is why you’re hanging around Lazare, then. He’s up to his ears in black magic,” Mr. LeBouf said jovially, completely inaccurately.

Luxord twirled his fork in his fingers and stabbed his salad. “He’s knowledgeable in the magical arts, yes. He’s not as experienced as his mother, but what he knows is quite useful.”

“Have you considered anyone else in this city? I know you must like him, but, ah,” Mr. LeBouf leaned in, “he’s a bit on the shady side.”

Luxord smiled guilelessly. “Who better to dispel a curse?” He stabbed his salad again. “Please don’t worry about my safety, Eli. My power dwarfs his. And I’m the one paying him. It doesn’t pay to threaten your golden goose.” And he waved his finger at Mr. Lebouf. “That’s part of why I’m here, actually. My money’s no good here, and I want a steady way to make it. So I want to give you the chance to exchange your money for my goods. Keep them, sell them at an inflated price, patent them yourself: I don’t mind. You name it, and I’ll obtain it and sell it to you.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Mr. Lebouf considered this deeply before saying: “A cure for the flu.”

Luxord was taken aback for a moment, then thought furiously. He couldn't offer vaccines, of course - if they didn’t have a flu vaccine now, bringing the technology for it would both be illegal and inconvenient. Much less the technology required to mass produce such a thing. Cost prohibitive, too. 

On the other hand, he could recreate the anti-disease items he’d made for the party. But to make it effective, he’d need a lot of them to create herd immunity, and making a lot of those would be expensive - 

Unless he went for cheapness. Hire moogles to mass produce shoddy items that would fail after a few months. Make more, sell them to a captive market, rinse and repeat. Grow rich.

It was highly unethical. No good man should plan to wring money out of a community by holding their health hostage.

“I can’t cure the flu,” Luxord said, “But I can get you the closest thing to it.” 

Why would a monster need to worry for the weight of his soul if it was already gone? Besides, Luxord could do far better things with the money than LeBouf could ever dream of. 

The end would justify the means.

* * *

 

Several hours later, Luxord returned to Facilier’s house; he practically skipped out of the car, waving Mr. LeBouf a very good night indeed, and waltzed into the house and Facilier’s arms.

“How’d it go?”

“I’m a bad, bad man,” Luxord breathed, “and I got 10% of next month’s salary in advance.”

“Next month’s salary?”

“Officially, I’m a consultant. Unofficially, I’m smuggling anti-disease magic items over the border for LeBouf to give to his workers,” Luxord said. “But unlike what everyone got at the party, these will need replacing every few months. So he’ll have to pay me over and over again.”

“You’re a genius,” Facilier breathed. “We’re rich!!”

“We’re rich!!” Luxord spun Facilier, laughing. “This world is ours!” 

“Lemme see the money,” Facilier said, and Luxord pulled the bills out of his pocket. Facilier laughed and leaned down, kissing him. “Oh, I love you, I love this.”

“I love you too,” Luxord said.

**We’re** **_right_ ** **here,** the Gator said.

**Ssssh,** said the Poisoner.  **They’re young. Let them have fun.**


	6. Day 34: The Cult of Kefka

Luxord went down the checklist. “That’s all five Watchers spotted around the Twilight Town sewers, Xion, and an additional two more hiding in a dumpster. Our mission is more than complete. Excellent job; are you ready to RTC?”

Xion, leaning against a wall and catching their breath, shook their head. Wisps of darkness ghosted off of their keyblade. 

“We’ve cleared out all the Heartless in this area,” Luxord said. “Do you want to check for treasure?” 

“No. I want to go to the beach,” Xion said. “I did good on the mission, so I get to go to the beach.”

Luxord considered this. He wanted to visit Port au Prince anyway to get into contact with some moogles, anyway. What was the harm?

“I suppose we can go, if you don’t wander off from the beach. I can go into town and buy you ice cream?”

“Yes! Ice cream!” 

Xion was, Luxord thought, his favorite coworker. A joy to work with and easy to manage. None of the baggage of working with his family, none of Marluxia or Larxene’s uncooperativeness, none of Demyx’s nonsense or Axel’s - 

Oh yeah, Axel. Was probably dead. And Marluxia and Larxene. And Zexion and Vexen and Lexaeus. Any or every one of them could be dead. 

“I think we could both use some ice cream,” Luxord said. “Let’s go.”

They went from Twilight Town to Port au Prince. Luxord called over his Gambler to watch Xion as they combed the beach for pretty shells and stalked into town. 

In the late afternoon, with the sun just kissing the horizon, Port au Prince bustled. Vendors danced between stalls. The smell of food from a dozen different stands blended with the distant salt of the ocean and old beer and the smell that came from many many people living in a small space. People talked, entertainers sang, and the languages of a dozen worlds unfurled in the air.

The address on the card Luxord had lead to a grey brick building nestled between a kebab stand and a weaver.  A moogle floated around the stand in front, a loose toga hanging from her tiny shoulders. “Welcome to the Synthesis Shop, kupo!” 

“Hello. I was told you do special orders?” Luxord said, and he passed the card over. 

The moogle took it, read it. “Oh, I see what you want, kupo! Come on around back.” She unlocked and opened the door behind her, and Luxord ducked inside.

The room inside was lit by candles in red, green and blue paper lamps. They overlapped to create a bright light leading up to a staircase, where another moogle waited. This one had dyed her fur in pinks and blues; Luxord was reminded of an anatomy chart designating muscle groups.

“Welcome to the Cult of Kefka’s synthesis shop, woho. We welcome one who seeks power from the bones of their enemies.”

“Is synthesizing items from what the Heartless hold really so macabre?”

“The Heartless were once humans, woho. Is it not a particularly roundabout form of harvesting from the dead?”

“I don’t think so,” said Luxord, who had not thought of it that way and did not ever want to think of it like that again. 

“Suit yourself. It’s no fur off my back if you’re in denial, woho.” The moogle floated forward; in the eerie candlelight, the helium-filled moogle puff that kept her in midair flashed garish and unpleasant colors. “You have a gift for getting your hands on rare items. We’ll take them, no questions asked, in exchange for synthesis. With no questions asked from you, woho.”

“Of course.” Luxord bowed his head. “I have several requests for you, and a list.”

“Give it here.” The moogle snatched the list out of Luxord’s hand when offered, beady eyes going down it. “This is a big order, woho. It’ll cost extra to hire more hands, and to make sure nobody asks questions. We know this is the second big order of anti-disease relics you’ve ordered in the past few months; it’s almost as if you’re taking them to a place where no one can buy any.”

Luxord tossed the moogle a drawstring bag. Again, the moogle’s paw was quick to snatch, to open, to draw out the translucent crystal the size of Luxord’s fist. 

“Pure mythril,” Luxord said. “Will that suffice?”

“More than enough, woho. I’ll get you a list of our usual under the counter wares and their prices, and you can think about what it’ll cost us to go more special orders,” the moogle said, holding the mythril crystal up to a candle. A dozen rainbows refracted through and onto the floor. “I think we all want this to be a mutually beneficial relationship.”

“And what would you do if it wasn’t beneficial?” Luxord asked dryly. He’d only come here for commerce, after all. He had little interest in being threatened by a moogle that only came up to his knee if grounded.

“They say that on some worlds threatened by the heartless, there was a man in a black coat causing trouble beforehand. We’d deal with you ourselves, woho.” The moogle put the crystal back in the bag and slung it over her arm. “This may be a human world, but it’s our home too. Try anything funny and we’ll show you our wrath, woho.”

Dammit. The Superior wouldn’t want to hear that other Organization members had been noticed on other worlds, but perhaps that was an inevitability. Moogles were incredible travelers and even more prolific gossips. And Luxord was meeting up with moogles known for hopping between worlds and throwing themselves into battle at the first sign of danger, those who painted themselves with the colors of the death god Kefka.

Maybe approaching the black mogket was a bad idea.

Well. It wasn’t as if he could back out now. He needed to deliver the goods to get the rest of the money from LeBouf so he could pay Facilier and start building a place for them to live once he got his heart back. 

“Seems silly to cause trouble on the world with the golden goose,” Luxord said instead.

“Wouldn’t be the first time humans did something silly. But we won’t need to talk about that, will we? Let’s talk shop,” said the moogle. 

* * *

 

Luxord came back an hour later, his pockets lighter, his hands cramping. He stored the new set of contracts he’d prepared with the Gambler and then went to the beach.

It was late enough in the day that the fishermen that dotted the horizon were coming in. Xion had taken no notice of them; they’d stripped out of their gloves so they could build a sand castle - well, more of a sand pyramid than anything else. They’d arranged a rainbow of shells in stars dotting the sides. 

When Luxord closed his eyes, he saw his little sister imprinted on his eyelids. The ocean surrounding Radiant Garden was cold even in the summer, but the beaches were often warm, and their family had visited often before everything had gone bad. Vexen and Lexaeus would use their magic to help stabilize the castles Kairi built, while Xaldin and Xigbar would have fun competing over who could build the biggest one on their own. Luxord would curl up with a book under the umbrella or try and take Kairi on chocobo rides,  letting her tug on the reins while he steered his steed through the shallows.

“Kai,” he said, and then stopped, corrected himself. “Xion. Are you ready to go home?”

“No,” Xion said, but they stood, taking the biggest seashell from the top of the pyramid. “Why are the boats coming in now?”

“It’s nighttime. It’s time for everyone to sleep.”

“But the squid only come out at night,” Xion said, staring out into the ocean. “You go fishing for them when they come to look at the moon. That’s why his dad never come back from the ocean. The boat sank during a storm.”

“Whose boat?” Luxord asked, his stomach flipping in the recollection of concern. No one in the Organization had been a fisherman, or had parents who were fishers.

“Him. You know.” Xion turned towards him with a smile. “He’s always sleeping, that dummy!”

“Who??”

Xion paused. Their smile slowly faded. “Who… what?”

“Xion, who are you talking about? Who has the boat?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did someone talk to you on the beach?”

“No. There isn’t anyone here. It was someone else. Did I know him before?”

Their memories were coming back, Luxord thought. That was it. That was probably it. There was nothing more to that strange, vacant look in their eyes. 

“It was probably someone you knew before you were a Nobody. Don’t worry about it,” Luxord said, and offered his hand. “Come on. We can talk about it as we go home.”

They took it, let Luxord lead them to the portal. “Does it take a long time to get your memories back?” Xion asked.

“Sometimes. It might take you longer than we did because you’re so young,” Luxord said. “And losing your heart hurts. You may have forgotten it because it was too scary.”

“Is it scary?”

“It is. I fought a very big Heartless when I lost my heart,” Luxord said. The Seeker of Darkness had been a man and a half tall, darkness in a shapeless robe, and the monster that bloomed behind it was twice Luxord’s size. It’s hand was almost the size of Luxord’s ribcage; it had only barely fit inside as it reached for his heart. “I was very scared when it happened. Even though I can’t feel anything now, I still remember how it felt. It was like I was cold all over, even inside my head.”

“That does sound bad. But even if I have bad memories, I must have had good memories too,” Xion decided. “Like ice cream.” 

“It’s always ice cream,” Luxord said, amused. “I have a big box of it for you when we get to the castle.” He had it stored safely in his cards for the time being so it wouldn’t melt.

“Ice cream is good! Roxas and I eat it together because we’re friends.”

“And you’ll eat lots of it when he wakes up?”

“Yeah!” And they held out the large pink shell they’d found on the beach. “And I’ll give him this shell! Because shells mean that you’ll always find each other!”

Luxord grinned. It seemed like they’d absorbed his lesson about thalassa shells, at least partially. No wonder they kept on coming back to the beach, if the beach meant shells, and shells meant Roxas would wake up. 

“I’m sure he’ll wake up soon.”

“He will! He’s always sleeping and I’ll wake him up. And then Roxas will say, thank you Xion, now I should get my friend Xion ice cream because she waited!” 

She, Luxord thought, and the gears spun a few times. They - no, she had remembered that, at last. 

“Well then, Xion, should we run back?”

“Yes!” She cheered. “Let’s go, Luxord!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have spent two years trying to figure out how to do this subplot, kupo


	7. Day 35: Black Mogket

“Run that phrase by me one more time,” Facilier said.

“Black mogket,” Luxord said.

“Black mogket. Which is a black market, but with moogles.”

“Exactly.”

_ “Why?” _

“Well, their postal service is Mognet, and their collection of knowledge that you can access via magic mirror is Mogpedia- “

“That does not explain anything.”

“Well, you see, moogles are polytheistic, but the head of the pantheon is Mog the All-Mogger - “

“You’re making that up. That is not a real word.”

“I promise you, this is all real. They conjugate “I am” and “we are” verbs with the prefix mog- so a lot of that leaked into how they translate things into other languages. There’s usually a regional accent with how they complete sentences, too, like if I said ‘desu’ at the end of my sentences in this language. Of course, most of them learn Modern Skenix and thus use ‘kupo,’ but you see variations based on if that population has stopped being nomadic or if they belong to certain cults.”

“You lost me at ‘conjugate.’” Facilier sighed and rested his head on Luxord’s. They were curled around each other on Facilier’s bed, Luxord’s face buried in Facilier’s chest. “How do you know all this stuff but not know what a red light district is?”

“Regulation of that kind of work is usually a domestic affair, and I was usually engaged in interworld relations. All I had to worry about was verifying that their guilds paid proper taxes and internal guild regulators dealt with the rest, like any other service industry.”

“Guild. You mean that was unionized?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Facilier huffed into Luxord’s hair. “If I have to explain socialism to you, you’re paying extra.”

“I can pay. We’re rich now, remember? Once I buy citizenship papers, I can get a bank account for us.”

“You can’t trust a bank, Luxord. The Friends’ll guard the money for us, anyway. Why’d you want to become a citizen here, anyway?”

“I’ve been thinking. When I get my heart back, do I have any reason to go back to Radiant Garden?” Luxord said. 

“So you’ll move here? You know it’s terrible here, right?” Facilier said. “Barely any magic, no magic mirrors, no one who knows anything you were raised with, and there’s white people everywhere.”

“No, see, that’s where the money comes in,” Luxord said. “Money is power here, isn’t it? So if I’m the richest man here, the city will do what I say.”

“You’re going to need a lot of money to pull that off,” Facilier said.

“All the better to start now,” Luxord said. “I’ll build a good reputation and a customer base. Set up allies in Port au Prince for imports and smuggling. If things don’t work out here, we move to Port au Prince, because I’ll have set up there too, just in case. Maybe we’ll live on both worlds.”

“You’re gonna have to tell me more about this prince place.” Facilier opened one eye, catlike, as Luxord shifted so he could sit up a little. 

“What, you don’t want to hear about the Cult of Kefka, the moogles who eat death?”

“No. Never mind! Stop!.” Facilier grabbed a pillow and whapped Luxord with it a few times, laughing. “No more nonsense from you! I have had enough of your exposition!”

“Where’d you learn such a big word, Lazare?” Luxord grinned up at him. 

“Why, you!!” Facilier tried to roll Luxord onto his back so he could flip on top of him, but Luxord was about as easy to move as a sack of wet bricks. Facilier tugged and strained at him a few times before Luxord obliged him by rolling over. The movement made Facilier overcompensate and he ended up rolling over Luxord and off the side of the bed.

Luxord peeked down at him. “Are you alright?”

Facilier hit him in the face with the pillow.


	8. Day 37: Pink Agaricus

“The shipwreck washed up in the bay on the night of the storm with all the stars,” the portmaster explains as he leads Luxord and Xion through the maze of docks. “It brought the Heartless with it. They’re not aggressive, thankfully, but they keep on manifesting where people are trying to walk. We can’t get anything done and people are starting to dock in other areas thinking that the Heartless will get violent soon.”

“That’s a twofold problem for business,” Luxord said. 

“The moogles already tried to take them out, but didn’t have any luck. If you can defeat the Heartless, I’ll pay the bounty, but if you can’t, I’ll at least pay you for your time.”

“Very reasonable.”

At the dock closest to the beach, white Heartless with red caps danced along the path leading to the shipwreck strewn across the sand. They each wiggled a little, froze with one ‘foot’ in the air, and then wiggled again. 

“Good luck,” the portmaster said, and left the two of them to wander down the stairs to the beach. 

Xion tugged on Luxord’s arm. “Why did we talk to that man? I thought we weren’t supposed to be seen.”

“Usually we aren’t, but this is an extra thing we’re doing. The icing on the cake,” Luxord explained. “Besides, we usually get seen now and then. Why not use it to our advantage and get a good reputation?”

“Because Xemnas will get mad?”

“What Xemnas doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Luxord said. “We’re getting some extra hearts and making a little money. There’s no harm in that. As long as we come back with hearts, we’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Xion said, doubtfully. 

“Besides, we don’t have hearts. We can’t get mad.”

“Then why is Saix’s face always like that?”

“That’s just what he looks like.”

“Are you sure? Doesn’t he have someone to eat ice cream with?”

Luxord grimaced. “Not really. All of us are Nobodies and have to work together, but that doesn’t mean we all like each other. I don’t think Saix likes anyone, really.”

“Not even Roxas?”

“Not even Roxas.”

“Not even Luxord?”

“Well, I’d say we’re compatible as coworkers, but - “ Luxord stopped abruptly as a Heartless appeared on the beach in front of them. 

It had a black Heartless face, cylindrical white body, and a big pink cap. Golden eyes goggled down at the two of them, uncaring, before the Heartless turned around and wobbled away.

“Why didn’t it attack us?” Xion asked. “Also, why is it as big as two Luxords stacked on top of each other?”

“I think that must be the one calling the others here,” Luxord said weakly, as the huge Heartless walked to the shipwreck that had been halfway pulled apart on the beachside dock and ducked inside. More of the smaller mushroom Heartless gathered around it. “We’re lucky it’s a Mushroom subspecies or there would have been a massacre on the docks.”

“Why?”

“Heartless like these are incredibly docile most of the time. Otherwise, this many Heartless near humans would have lead to a feeding frenzy.”

“Why?”

Luxord blinked, dropping his gaze from the Heartless down to Xion. “Heartless eat human hearts. That’s why we usually go to cities, Xion - that many humans in such a small area attract the Heartless.”

“Why?” 

“The Heartless can’t die from starvation, but they still get hungry and want to eat to make themselves stronger. The nature of all things is to want to exist, and the Heartless are no exception.”

“Why do things want to exist?”

“I think we should talk about that once we’re done with the mission,” Luxord said, watching as the Heartless poofed away. “We need to focus right now. These Heartless give prizes when we cast spells on them. Xion, if I cast the spells upon them, will you strike them down?”

“I will.” Xion manifested the Keyblade in her hand and shifted her weight to one side, readying for battle. 

“I’ll cast the Stop spell on each Mushroom, and they’ll drop an item for us. Once the item falls, you attack,” Luxord said. 

“I will! Let’s do it!”

The next ten minutes flew by. The Mushrooms fell one by one. The largest one was last, and Xion took it down with a flurry of blows. It dropped one shard of a strange shining substance, and Luxord knelt to pick it up from the sand.

“Did we do it?” Xion asked, beaming from under her hood.

“We did. Good job!” Luxord said, standing once again. “I’ll go get our payment. Can you go get us ice cream in town?”

“Yes!” 

Luxord pulled out his wallet and handed her two hundred munny; Xion clutched it and ran off, bouncing up the steps, past the portmaster and into the crowded streets of Port au Prince. 

“That should be all of them. Contact me if they do return, though,” Luxord said to the portermaster as he got his payment. 

“I will. Your kid’s quite a fighter, huh?”

“My - oh, yes. My cousin,” Luxord lied. He beamed as Xion came running back, a cup of shaved ice in each hand. “She’s growing up well.” 

The portmaster smiled after them as Xion shoved a cone into Luxord’s hand, grabbed the other and dragged him back onto the beach. Despite her youth, she already had the nascent inhuman strength of a Nobody, and Luxord had to walk at a fast clip to keep up with her in her eagerness. She pulled him to a tiny wooden pier at the edges of the harbor and sat, dangling her booted feet over the water. Luxord sat next to her and hoisted up one knee to balance his shaved ice on while she went to town.

She was still so young. Zestful. Luxord’s sister had been like that, once. If Kairi was alive, she would have been around Xion’s age, and just as energetic, he thought.

Just like Kairi. 

“You’re making a face again,” Xion said. “Do you not like ice cream?”

“It’s shaved ice,” Luxord said without thinking. “And no, that’s not it. I’m thinking about something silly.”

“Like what?”

“There was someone I used to eat ice cream with. Like you and Roxas did? But she’s not here anymore,” Luxord said, careful with his words, careful not to look at her. He didn’t want to overwhelm her with his baggage - you didn’t just drop ‘dead baby sister’ on an amnesiac teenager you had known for two weeks. But it seemed like he couldn't avoid the issue, either. “You remind me of her.”

“Was she your friend?” Xion’s voice had lost a trace of lilt. Concern, or what passed for it among Nobodies? Or had she picked up on how the facade of his mood had faded?

“Yes, she was my friend.”

“Do you miss her?”

“I do.”

“I miss Roxas,” Xion said, thoughtfully. “But if we’re here together, then maybe we can miss them less together?”

“That is generally how friends work,” Luxord agreed. “I’d like that.”

“Me too,” Xion said. 

If Luxord could have emotions, he’d call the sensations within him serenity. The waves crashing, as they had on the beaches near Radiant Garden. Shaved ice. A friend at his side. He had not felt so at peace in the Organization in a long time.

Then he looked at her and almost dropped his shaved ice.

Xion had shrugged her hood down when he wasn’t looking. She had short, straight black hair, and brown skin decorated with a constellation of freckles from sun exposure, and. 

Big blue eyes, the shade of the sea. A cute, wide nose. A smile too big for her face. 

How often had he imagined what Kairi looked like if she had lived? Vexen’s eyes. Lexaeus’s nose. His grandmother’s smile. 

Before she could realize he was staring again, before he could think, Luxord shoved himself off the dock. The warm sea water was a shock to his system. 

He was seeing things, he told himself sternly. It had been nine - no, ten years since she had died. He needed to stop acting like a maniac every time he was reminded of a dead family member. What the hell. Stop messing around and act like an adult for the damn teenager!

Luxord emerged from the water sputtering, soaked. He pulled one sleeve down to let water trickle out of it. “Whoops.”

“Are you ok?” Xion asked, leaning forward.

“I am. I simply looked down because I thought I saw a fish and overbalanced. My luck was not with me today,” Luxord said, and let the water trickle out of his other sleeve. “My apologies.”

“What are you saying sorry for? You didn’t do anything bad,” Xion said. 

“I didn’t splash you?”

“Nope!” Xion said. “But you should be more careful. Your dad’s gonna chew you out if you come home all soaking wet.”

“My father?”

“Yeah. You’re gonna get all soaked and then your pants are gonna be stiff with all the salt and then you’ll say you wanna leave the island because you’re so embarrassed. Dummy!” 

“Silly me,” Luxord said, words sand in his mouth. “Does my father get worried often?”

“All the time.”

“What does he look like?” 

The light faded from Xion’s eyes. “He….looked like….”

“Does he have blonde hair? Red hair?” He had no heart, but there was something lodged in his throat like anxiety. “Does he wear a white coat?” 

“Didn’t the mister who was there when I woke up….?” Xion put a hand to her head. “I can’t remember.”

No. No, Vexen took care of new Organization members, checked their health. Everyone had early memories of him ghosting through the labs. If she remembered Vexen, it was from that. It couldn’t be from anything else.

(Those tanks hidden in the most secure parts of the lab. A slender hand slamming against the glass before fading back into opaque liquid. The family photo - Ansem, Even and Aeleus, Lourd and Ienzo. And Kairi, all of four years old, sandwiched between the lot of them.)

Triad, what was he doing? 

“We should RTC,” Luxord said.

Xion slumped over. “Did I say the wrong thing?” 

“No, no, it’s all me,” Luxord said quickly. “I’m being silly. Pay me no mind.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Xion said, and then she manifested her keyblade and swiped at the water, splashing Luxord with a fierce grin. “But you gotta catch me before we RTC!” 

Luxord took a face full of saltwater and sputtered before pulling out his cards, manifesting a huge metal ace before slamming it into the water, sending a wave crashing into Xion’s face. She shrieked with laughter and jumped off the dock to race away from him, the flat of her keyblade skimming the water’s edge as she dodged under his swipe and ran towards shore. 

He was too occupied to think more on the issue until well into the night, after they’d returned to the World That Never Was. Xion had thrown her coat and laundry to the dusks before running to Roxas’s room, and Luxord had followed at a more sedate pace, then ducked out and into the depths.

At this hour, and with Vexen gone for the indefinite future, the Organization’s labs were quiet. A few dusks with brooms wandered here and there, and Vexen’s personal Paladin Nobodies waved Luxord through security with little preamble - he was higher up on the food chain than anyone there, after all.

There was no one stopping him from retracing his steps to the labs where he’d found occupied tanks a few months prior. No dust had settled on the stacks of paper lining the tables. The tall tanks were now empty of everything save for a few wires and tubes. The photograph taped to one of them had half-fallen, tape askew, and Luxord plucked it off and considered it in the lab’s dim light.

“What’s baby brother doing at this time of night?”

Luxord jolted. With a flick of his wrist, the photo disappeared into his sleeve as he turned to face Xigbar. “I wanted to check some paperwork in here,” he said smoothly, bowing his head. “What’s the elder son doing?”

“Paperwork too,” Xigbar said, completely unconvincing.. “Listen, until Vexen’s back, the labs are under my jurisdiction.” He wrapped an arm around Luxord’s shoulders, making him lean down to Xigbar’s level. “I don’t want to pull rank, but I am No. II, and I do have to ask you to go through me before you go poking through Dad’s stuff, right?”

“You haven’t called him Dad in a decade.”

“Not the point.” Xigbar’s nails dug into Luxord’s shoulder hard enough that he could feel them through Xigbar’s leather gloves “The point is, don’t make me turn this into a rank thing.”

“So stay out of the labs.”

“So stay out of _ my _ labs,” Xigbar confirmed. “You’re our money man. Go do money things. Don’t worry your little head about science.”

Luxord could have asked why they were now specifically Xigbar’s labs, or how he’d gotten here so fast, or why Xigbar had to lay on the concerned sibling act so thick when they both knew Xigbar could just do the rank thing and be done with it. They didn’t need to do this song and dance, just like they hadn’t ten years ago, when they were both still human. 

Luxord said, “I understand. May I go now?”

“You may. Get outta here, scamp,” Xigbar said, and shoved him out the door. 

Luxord didn’t look back as he left. The old photograph sat safely tucked within his sleeve, and he would tuck it into a protective card trap once he was safely in his room. If Xigbar didn’t notice it was missing, then Luxord would keep it. He didn’t have answers, but that photo was good enough for the time being.


End file.
